No Man is an Island
by Brigit O'hUigin
Summary: Erik runs to Ireland in the hopes of freeing himself and living a quiet life in solitude, but his plans change quickly when he falls for Brigit. ERIKOC!
1. Chapter 1

OK, this is my first fanfiction, so please be kind, at least for a little bit.

**Summary** Our dear, beloved Phantom is fleeing the country, his heart has been broken by Christine (I warn you now, I am a Christine hater!) And the police now want him for the deaths of many. He flees to Ireland where he takes the money he has been saving over the years and buys a house. He wants to spend the rest of his life alone, playing the piano for a bar, and composing music, but it doesn't take long before an amusing young lady gets the best of him. ErikOC hopefully this will turn into a series.

**Disclaimer** I own nothing related to the Phantom of the Opera, (but one day Erik will be mine!) I own Brigit, I own the plot, I own everything that is not in any of the versions of POTO. This applies to all of the following chapters as well.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been on that, and frankly he didn't care, he was glad to be off the damn thing! He had fled his home and everything he knew to get freedom and found himself trapped on a ship, but after seeing where he was he felt it was a small price to pay. Ireland was better than he had hoped! It was marvelous, it was green, it was quiet out of town.

He bought an Irish Draught black stallion and was off. He followed the roads north, looking for a quiet, small town where he could live his life alone without annoyances. He stopped every once and a while, but none of the places he stopped at a house for sale up to his standards. He needed one large enough for an organ and a piano, he needed enough land to be away from everyone, but he had to be close enough to town to get food.

Finally, after a week of searching, he found a home in the county of Sligo that was perfect. Carrowmore. A perfectly small town, and right outside it was a cottage, it was large and would suit his purposes, and it was on a wonderfully large plot of land. He bought it with cash.

For the next few weeks he cleaned his estate, went out and bought an organ and piano which he had put into his house. While he was fixing his home word had spread around the small town about their newest inhabitant.

"They say he wears bandages all over his face!"

"They say he's a music teacher!"

"I heard he's an architect!"

"No! He's a sorcerer! I saw him make a fence talk once!"

Even though the entire town was excited about their new member of the town there was one young woman who didn't care. "Does it matter what he looks like? So what if he does magic? We need a new musician around here anyways!" She would say when people tried to talk to her about it. She hated when people talked like this in the town. Wasn't a person allowed to live their life with some kind of privacy?

He had owned his house a month before he finally decided to go to the town. He had spent the entire night trying to decide what his new identity would be. He decided to keep part of his name and take on an Irish last name. Erik O'hUigin, the Frenchman with Irish parents who emigrated to France when he was a child. Yes, he liked that story. When he went to his closet he decided he was going to have to get new clothes, he definitely could not spend the rest of his days with one suit.

He put on his mask and saddled his stallion, and began the semi-long trip to the town. He was thoroughly enjoying the quiet ride until he realized he was lost. He decided it would be easier to continue his ride until he ran into someone and would get directions. He rode on for near a half hour before he spotted someone near the road. He thought it was a you boy tending his sheep, but as he neared he heard a sweet girl's voice singing an Irish song.

"Oh, the other night I got an invitation to a funeral

But to me disappointment the fucker didn't die

So to ease our disappointment he took us out and treated us

And seein' as he apologized, we let the thing go by.

To ease our disappointment he took us out and treated us

He bought a quart of ale for a company of ten

When some one of us asked him whose money he was squanderin'

The fellow took his wallet out, we never asked again

Now, we got a concertina for to aid in the rascality

But none of us could play it though we tried our best and worse

We made an awful noise, and if it's any benefit

We played the thing so carefully that all the bellows burst

We got a boiled potato for to mend the concertina with

When someone hit Maloney with the carcass of a cat

He bottled up his whiskers, and he read out the riot act

He swore he'd put two hits upon the bastard who did that

When the owner of the beershop, he saw us all a'riotin'

He gave orders to get out but, at that we all refused

So he whistled in some loafers that were standin' round the corner and

For ten or fifteen minutes we was bodily abused

When we left the beershop, on down the road we started

When a bunch of hungry urchins, they pelted us with mud

We told them to chuck it -- they said that they were doin' that

And then they all ran off and they left us where we stood

Well, the next thing we got was a bunch of salvationers

They rifled all our pockets and they asked us, were we saved?

Poor little John McGintey got escorted to the station-house

For askin' a great policeman if his appetite was shaved

Oh, for to free McGintey we then took off our undershirts

And down to the pawnshop we took the bloomin' lot

We told him that we only wanted ten and six on them

There's enough on them already was the answer that we got

We got our ten and six all for to free McGintey with

Bad luck to that beershop that we passed along the way

For of course we couldn't pass it without having some refesherment

And we squandered all the money of the fine we had to pay

Now the drink bein' in us, the sense, it was all out of us

And for a bit of riotin' we quickly did repair

We battered one another till we all weren't worth three ha'pennies

You could have carpeted the floor with all the skin and hair

For McCarty hit McGintey and McGintey hit some other man

And every man hit any man against he had a spite.

Poor old Macnamara who was sittin' sayin' nothin' got

A kick that broke his jaw for not indulgin' in the fight.

We fought away like Turks until the police separated us

They took us to the jail with broken noses and black eyes

I got sixty days in prison and it was a lesson, sure:

I'll go no more to funerals until the bastard dies."

The young person finished the song when Erik got close enough to see that the young person was most definitely a young woman. She had an upside-down egg shaped face, with alabaster skin which he thought strange of an Irish girl. Beautiful thin red lips and green eyes so dark they looked close to black seemed to perfect the young woman's face. She was wearing a billowing white shirt under a brown vest and brown slacks. A large hat hid her hair from sight, he inwardly wondered what color it was.

"Starin's rude, 'aven't ya' 'erd?" She said brashly, getting up from the stone she had been sitting on.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't realized I was staring, I was just wondering if you were the one singing just a moment ago?" He ask as politely as possible. He had gone from having all the power and people fearing him to being scolded by a sixteen year old girl!

"Aye, that I was." She answered not nearly as rudely as her last comment. He wasn't bad looking she had to admit. He had lovely black hair that was combed back, slightly tanned skin, and the most beautiful green eyes she'd ever seen. No, he wasn't bad looking in the least, she only wished he would turn so she could see the rest of him.

"You are very talented, have you taken lessons?" He asked truly interested in the gorgeous girl.

"Nah, me Pa always said I was graced with the voice of a bird like me Ma." She began to gather her things, she'd have to bring the sheep in if she planned on dancing at the bar that night.

Erik watched her pick up her things for a few moments before she returned her attention to him again. "Is there somet'in' else ye' want?" She asked putting her hand on her hip which had jut out. He had to admit she looked very cute like that.

"Um..." He had forgotten what he originally planned to ask! "Can you point me in the direction of Carrowmore?" He asked shifting in the saddle.

"You're gonna' have ta' turn around, you're going the wrong way. T'is 'bout a 'alf 'ours ride the other way." _Oops,_ he thought, _well, at least it was a nice ride!_ He was about to turn his stallion around when she turned as well. "If ye' want I can ride wit' ye'. I 'ave t' take the sheep in and change first, but I'm 'eaded the same way as ye'."

Erik eagerly accepted, he was really becoming quite lucky on this island. He hopped off his stallion and followed the young woman up a hill and through green pastures to her little farm house. As they approached Erik saw an old man feeding some sows outside the house.

"'Bout ye!" The man called to the girl.

"Grand altogether!" She yelled back, "Da! I'm goin' to the town!" He waved his hand as she dashed into the house.

She turned and looked at Erik, "Fella, ye' got a name?" she asked lifting an eyebrow in question.

"Oh, yes, I'm Erik." He reached his hand out for hers.

She shook his hand quickly, "Nice te' meet ya'." She disappeared into the house then reappeared, "Stay 'ere for tree minutes." She disappeared again.

It took less than three minutes before she reappeared, this time showing her feminine curves. Erik had to keep his jaw from dropping. She had come out wearing a white dress that had short sleeves, the end of the dress stopped shortly under her knees, the dress had a green sash around the her middle making her bosom more pronounced. She had white stockings on under her dress and was holding a pair of what appeared to be black leather ballet slippers. But the most amazing thing about her was her shoulder length wavy hair the color of dark wheat. She was stunning.

"Well, Erik, ye ready?" He could only nod dumbly. He followed her as she went to the stable and got her own brown Irish Draught mare. She quickly hopped on the horse and spurred the horse into a walk as she settled herself side-saddle.

They had been on the road for five minutes before Erik realized he didn't know the young woman's name. "Excuse me, I'm afraid I don't know your name."

She turned to him, his right side bared to her. "I'm Brigit Muldoon." She turned away. Why would such a handsome man wear a mask that covers half his face. "Are ye the man that moved in the cottage down the road?"

Erik was startled, word sure got around fast in Ireland. "I am, how did you know?"

"Ye've become the center of attention in town, it'd be 'ard **not** te know!" She turned and looked him strait in the eye, "Just between us, I think it's sad no bloody person can mind their own business!"

Erik relaxed at that, he thought she was going to ask about the mask, but after she had said that he didn't think she would ask. "Would you mind me asking what those shoes are for?" He asked pointing at the black leather shoes dangling from her hands.

"Ye goin' te the bar?" she asked, he nodded, he had been offered a night job there. "Well, then, ye'll be seein' what the shoes 're fer." She turned back in her saddle. He continued to stare at her, she was an odd young woman, he wondered how old she was. What did he care? He had already decided to remain alone for the rest of his life, he was never going to fall in love again, no one could reciprocate his feelings when he looked the way he did.

When they reached the bar they tied up the horses and walked into the green building. Inside smoke filled the air along with laughter and voices. AS they walked in they each went their separate ways, Erik to the bar, Brigit to the table filled with girls who were changing their shoes into ones similar to hers.

"Mr. McGinty?" Erik asked the bartender he nodded and wove out from behind the bar. McGinty was a tall, portly man, he was going bald but had a short red beard growing on his face. His blue eyes sparkled with joy. "I'm Erik, your new pianist."

"My, ain't you just a lawdy daw! I figured ye were the new 'pianist', we gots some music up on the piana' fer ye." He turned and pointed at man who was tuning a violin, "That's Jimmy, 'es ye're 'ccopaniant." He walked back over to the bar and brought Erik a tall glass of ale. "When ye're ready g'head and play." He left and let Erik situate himself.

As he organized his music he listened to what the people in the bar were saying.

"Hey, John, ain't that the new fella? Sure looks like a jackeens."

"Nah, more like a West Brit." John replied.

"Molly! Would you look at that fine half!"

"I'd be his mot any day!" Molly exclaimed.

Erik wasn't sure what any of the things he'd just been called were, but he was pretty sure his plans weren't going as planned.

**AN:** So the song is in fact an Irish song, "Bout ye'?" means how are you, a "Jackeens" is a Dubliner, a "West Brit" is someone who really likes Englishmen, a "fine half" is a good looking member of the opposite sex, and a "mot" is a girlfriend. So...anyone liking the story? Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

OK, here's number two!

Eric wasn't sure what any of the things he'd just been called were, but he was pretty sure his plans weren't going as planned.

He had come to Ireland to escape the police and his memories. He moved to a small town so he could enjoy the quiet life in solitude, but it seemed he could have had more solitude in a large city. It wasn't that bad yet, but he knew people would begin to ask about his mask. He smiled to himself, he had left in the hopes of starting over and living without having any feelings of attraction and he had already developed a liking for a girl. No, she wasn't a girl, she was the age of a girl, but she was as mature as a woman.

Eric glanced over at Brigit. How old was she? Fifteen, perhaps sixteen? How many men did she have coming to call for her? She was a beautiful Irish girl, and smart as well. There was no doubt she would soon be married off by her father. Perhaps they could just be friends, he thought he could be quite content with that. Oh yes, once she was married off by her father, the two could become very close and he wouldn't have to worry about being too tempted by her, not that she would ever reciprocate those kinds of feelings for a monster like himself.

Jimmy, the violinist had approached Eric. Eric only glanced at him and began to play the first song on the piano. It seemed simple enough, "Merrily Kissed the Quaker," it was called. He watched as the girls who had been putting on the strange shoes had gone into the dance floor and the young gentlemen around the establishment were quick to ask the girls for a dance. Before his eyes every girl had a partner and at the eighth bar they had all begun a strange dance. The boys held the ladies' hands up as they danced, the mens shoes all made noise to the beat as they clicked their heels to the ground. The girls weren't nearly as loud, but their legs were kicking high up and to the side of their waists.

As the night progressed, Eric watched as man after man danced with Brigit. It was the middle of the night before people began to leave. Farmers and their wives ushered their children out of the building. It was not long before the only people left were McGinty, Jimmy, Brigit and himself. While McGinty was cleaning his bar, Jimmy and Eric had been talking with Brigit.

"So, 'ow'd ya like yer first night?" Jimmy had inquired placing the elbow of the arm holding his violin on his knee as he leaned closer to Eric.

"It was quite fine." Eric said, becoming a little uncomfortable by Jimmy's invasion of his space. He glanced at Brigit who was sitting on a chair rolling her ankle like he'd seen ballerinas do after practicing an Opera. "May I inquire as to what type of dance that was?" It looked familiar. He had seen many of the help dancing it at their parties in the back of the opera.

"Ah! So ya liked it did ya?" Jimmy said slapping his knee with his free hand. "I figured ya would! S'called step-dancin'!" Ha announced a little too loudly for Eric's liking. The young man turned his attention to Brigit, "Brigit! Ya love ta' dance, dun ya?" Eric was beginning to suspect that Jimmy was drunk.

Brigit nodded, then looked at Eric and pointed at Jimmy while mouthing "He's fluthered." Eric could only smile and chuckle at the statement.

"Good! Erik! Ya 'ave never seen step-dancin' 'til ye've seen Brigit dance!" He grabbed Brigit's arm and pulled her onto the dance floor. "Come on wan! Do a jig! Just fer me!" Brigit was only chuckling and shaking her head. Jimmy was still trying to get her to dance when a voice yelled at her from the back.

"Come on Brigit! Show the man what dancin' is!" Mr. McGinty yelled, putting his weight on the broom he'd been using. Brigit looked from Mr. McGinty to Jimmy to Eric then sighed and agreed.

"Alright, I'll dance, but this is the last one for the night!" She said with a brilliant smile. "And I'm only doin' it fer ye, Mr. McGinty!" Her smile as she saw Jimmy's fake pain cross his face, pretending she had hurt him with her words.

She stepped into the middle of the room crossing her legs so that her right foot was at an angle and her left foot was directly behind that foot at an opposite angle with the left foot's toes under the arc of her right foot. When her hands were firmly at her sides, Jimmy began to play a slow tune Eric didn't know. At the sixth bar she pointed her right foot in front of her, on the eighth bar she was on the balls of both feet and had begun a slow dance to the music.

Eric watched in awe as her feet propelled her high into the air. She had begun to spin and jump and kick in a completely different manner than a ballerina, but there was still a great grace to the way she danced. Her dress spun out around her as she danced to the music, sad and slow, but the music was changing. Jimmy had sped up the pace of the music and Brigit was now floating across the room with a smile on her face. Her dance had changed as well, instead of the long steps and leaps she'd been dancing, she was now jumping and spinning and cutting her leg across her body. It was amazing to see how the music affected the way she was dancing.

When at last the music stopped, the men burst into an uproarious applause. Brigit bowed and then ran over to Jimmy, whom she gave a big hug and whispered into his ear much to Eric's displeasure. She was quick to return to her seat where she tried to catch her breath again.

"That was amazing!" Eric exclaimed to her stunned anyone could interpret music into dance the way she did.

She smiled humbly at Eric. "I love to dance, it's my life." She muttered taking off her shoes. She picked up her things, "I'll escort ye home, Eric." She said turning to say good bye to Mr. McGinty. She gave him a big hug as well as Jimmy.

It wasn't long before the two had begun the steady ride back. It was maybe two minutes into the ride before Eric's curiosity had gotten the best of him. "May I ask you a question?" He asked turning to look at her.

"May I ask ye one?" She replied with a smile on her face.

"Of course." He answered. He waited a few moments. "Are you courting Jimmy?" She looked shocked, he had to admit he was a little shocked as well. He didn't think he really cared, he planned to be alone for the rest of his life, right?

It didn't take long for Brigit's shock to wear off and she broke out into a fit of giggles. Eric was completely confused. What was so amusing? "What is so funny?"

"I'm sorry!" She managed to get out between her laughter. "It's just so funny!"

"What is!" Eric nearly yelled beginning to become angry at her reaction to his question. Perhaps she thought he was asking to see if he could court her and she really thought so little of him!

"Jimmy's my brother!" She burst out laughing again, all Eric could do was sit in his saddle and feel foolish. Of course she didn't think he'd been trying to see if he could court her! She was way out of his league and he would never stand a chance. What did he care what she thought about him trying to court her anyway? He was going to be single for the rest of his life.

Brigit felt bad about her reaction when she saw his face contorted with humiliation. "I truly am sorry, Eric. I forgot you didn't know. I'm terribly sorry." She reached over and put her hand on his black clad arm. "Everyone in town knows that he's my brother, he has taken up with Mr. McGinty to be his replacement when he gets too old. I'm sorry about that, it wasna' fair fer me to laugh like tha'" She apologized again.

"It is nothing, I was just surprised, you don't look anything a like." Eric replied. Now interested once again in the vivacious young woman.

"Tha's because my mother wasna' his mother." She waited for the look of disgust to cross his face, but it never passed. "My father took up another wife five years after his first died giving birth to Jimmy. A year later I was born." She was watching him closely, waiting for him to yell at her, to call her dirty names like everyone else had done.

He hadn't said or done anything to show his disappointment in her situation. It was a few minutes before she couldn't stand it anymore, "Well! Say somethin'! Don't sit there and ignore me now that ye know!" She yelled, her anger getting the best of her.

"Should something that you have said made me disappointed in you?" He asked truly confused at her burst of anger.

She was stunned into silence. He didn't know. "Ye aren't Catholic, are ye?" She asked lifting an eyebrow.

Eric shook his head, he didn't really believe in God. God supposedly gave people miracles, he had yet to give him one, so he didn't think there could be a God, but he believed in the Devil.

"Most Irish are Catholic." She said as quietly.

"My parents were Irish, but I grew up in France. I don't follow most of the normal Irish beliefs." Eric said simply, letting his fake life begin with the first person he told.

"Well, it isna' proper for a man to re-marry. If the husband has lost his wife he's supposed te' stay alone, fore in the eyes o' God he's still married to the one who had passed." She informed him. Then she leaned towards him and in hush tones added, "But I'm not a Catholic, neither."

He turned and looked at her. She wasn't Catholic, but didn't she just say most Irish are Catholic? "You are not?"

She shook her head, glad she could tell someone. "My mother wasna' Catholic neither!" Eric was now leaning towards her as well. He knew what she was saying was something no one else knew except, perhaps, her father. "She wasna' Irish neither! She was an American, a young girl who had traveled to Ireland to win competitions! Her parents had taught her to believe what she wanted, not what anyone wanted her to believe. She raised me the same way, until she died." She finished proudly. She giggled, "You are the first person outside my family who knows!"

He couldn't help but smile with her, she had trusted him when she barely knew him. He had never found anyone who was as friendly to him as this young woman. "I'll be sure to keep it a secret." He said becoming completely serious.

"Oh! Don't do that! Don't get serious on me again!" He was surprised when she had said that. "When ye get serious ye stop smilin' and ye've got such a beautiful smile!" She exclaimed, then turned pink with embarrassment. She hadn't meant to say that, she had decided not to chase after men or get married when she was younger. She had decided the only way to live was by herself. She would take care of her father, and when he died she would take over the farm. She was an independent woman, she didn't need a man.

Eric couldn't help but be stunned by her outburst. She thought he had a beautiful smile? When was the last time he had gotten a compliment about the way he looked? Was there a chance she liked him? No, it didn't matter, he was going to be celibate for the rest of his life.

The rest of the ride was quiet, both lost in contemplations of their feelings for their companions. When they reached Eric's estate, he felt he should say something so as not to lose her friendship. "It was a pleasure to meet you Brigit," he held out his hand for a handshake, "I hope to see you again." She smiled and took his hand.

"I'm very glad I met you, too." She whispered. He turned her hand and brought his lips to the back of it in a feather soft kiss. This kiss made Brigit shiver, he was a suave Devil, that was for sure.

The next day Eric tried to busy himself by starting an opera. He wasn't sure what it would be about yet, but he wanted to write one about Ireland. Perhaps he'd write it about one of the many popular tales from Ireland, then he would have an excuse to have Brigit come and visit him. He gave a sigh and rubbed his eyes. Why was he thinking about her so much? Surely he wasn't even considering her replacing his sweet Christine? Perhaps "sweet" wasn't the right word, maybe "heart breaker"? Or maybe "betrayer"? "User"? He picked up one of his books and threw it across the room, making it slam against the wall. He thumped onto his bench and began to let his emotions out through his music.

Brigit hadn't been able to sleep that night, she was preoccupied with thoughts of Eric. What was she feeling for this stranger? Maybe this was her first crush? Yes, that must be it. Her feelings for Eric were not serious she was just being like every other girl in town and feeling attracted to him, that was all.

The nest morning when she was mucking out the stalls, her father approached her. "Brigi', I want ye to invite our neighbor for supper." She just looked at her father in disbelief. He never invited people for dinner except on holidays. "He's a single man living in a new house, he probably needs a night off from cooking." With that he turned away from his daughter's scrutinizing gaze.

"Probably needs a night off"? What the Devil did he mean by that? She wasn't going to argue with her father because as much as she didn't like her father's hidden meaning in the invitation she would love to see Eric again. When she finished mucking out the stalls, she hopped onto her mare and road off to Eric's estate.

Eric was shocked when he heard a knock on his door. He never expected to hear a friendly knock on a door he owned. He stood and straightened his shirt and walked to the door. He felt a smile spread across his face when he saw who was at his door. When he opened his door Brigit beamed at him like a new sun.

"Me Da' wanted me to invite ye to our farm fer supper." She announced.

"I'd be glad to come over." Eric replied, taking in all of Brigit. She was wearing boy's clothes again. He wondered why she would make herself look like a boy when she was so beautiful in a dress?

"I shall tell me Da' that. G'day, Eric." She smiled, more timidly this time, and left. Eric couldn't tear his eyes away from her as he watched her walk back to her horse. She was a stunning beauty, she might even surpass his Christine. Was he still referring to her as "his"? How foolish. He shook his head and headed out to his stables. He needed to get a new wardrobe.


	3. Chapter 3

**Number three!! I'm glad people like it! Please review, they make me happy.**

When Erik returned from his shopping he had two new outfits more suited to the labor he'd been doing lately. He contemplated wearing his new black suit but decided the one he had brought with him was more fashionable. He slicked his hair back, cleaned his mask, and shined his shoes. He looked himself over once before he got on his clean horse and went to the Muldoon house.

Brigit had dressed herself up as well. She had put on her party dress, the dress she used on special occasions. It was a deep emerald color, it wasn't anything special, just a green dress that went from just under her chin to her toes, just like every proper girl wears. She had even gone through the trouble of putting on **every** part of the dress, she normally left off parts of it, she didn't understand why a girl needed to wear more than a corset and drawers under their dress. She hated that she was dressing up for him too, she didn't want to like him, he was ruining her plans, she wanted to live a life of solitude, but he made her wish to marry and have children.

At seven o'clock exactly, Erik knocked on the door. When Brigit answered, he was shocked once more with her beauty. She was wearing a plain green dress, but she looked stunning. He realized he must have been staring when she blushingly invited him into her house. It was a humble home, there was an off-white living room as soon as he walked in. It had a fireplace that already had a few blocks off wood burning, it had a small piano in the corner, and a few chairs for guests.

Erik followed Brigit through a hallway which apparently ran the length of the house. She turned and led him into the first room on the left, also the only room without a door. It was a large dining hall with a small table in the middle. The walls had a brown, stripy wallpaper which he thought was absolutely atrocious.

Brigit led him to one side of the table and motioned for him to sit. Erik watched her glide over to the other side of the wooden table. He could tell from the way she was walking that she was a dancer, everything about how she moved was graceful, he thought she looked amazing.

"So, do you like Ireland?" Brigit's father asked when he walked into the brown room.

"I do, it is a gorgeous country." Erik replied.

Brigit's father continued to ask about Erik's house and where he was originally from, while Brigit walked back from the kitchen to serve them and eat and then to return to the kitchen to get more food. It was around ten, when she had disappeared with the last, empty dishes.

"Mr. Muldoon, I was wondering if I could talk to you about a business proposition?" Erik watched as Mr. Muldoon leaned closer and his face lost much of his smile. This must have been his business face.

"What is it, lad?" He asked lighting his pipe.

"Well, My Muldoon, I was wondering if you would allow Brigit to come over to my house every day possible so she can tell me some Irish tales." He paused, avoiding the scrutinizing gaze of the older man. "I am a composer, you see, and I was hoping to come up with an idea for an opera based on the stories."

"Ah, yes, are you sure that is **all** you wish to have her come over to yer house for?" Mr. Muldoon asked lifting a bushy, grey eyebrow.

"Sir!" Erik exclaimed, feeling somewhat embarrassed by the man's accusations. "The only other thing I might have her do is dance for me to let me see how my music effects my audience. **That** is all, sir." Erik watched stunned as Mr. Muldoon started laughing. Why did everyone in this town have to laugh at him.

"Relax, lad, I's just teasin' ye!" The portly man got out between his thunderous laughter. When the man calmed down he looked at Erik. "Well, I'll let ye borrow 'er fer yer purposes, but I must have some kinda' thing to make up fer the money I'll lose when she goes off wit' ye."

"Very well, how much do you believe you'll lose without her?" Erik asked, suddenly very aware that if her father wanted money, then she was going to be very mad. She'd probably feel like she was being sold. He would have to win her over with a different proposition.

"Well, she does lot o' tings on the farm, ye see, so…I'd say a pound a day…aye, that'd do it." Mr. Muldoon said nodding his head. Both heard a gasp from the doorway and turned to find Brigit with a bright red face.

"Da!" She yelled angrily at her father. "What the 'ell do ye tink yer doin'! Sellin' me to the 'ighest bidder? Eh? Eh?!" She screamed running from the room. Erik was stunned. _Well,_ he thought,_ my assumption was correct_. He would have to find some way to win her over.

"Well, lad, if we can get her to yer 'ouse, then you got yerself a deal." The man leaned back in his chair, fiddling with is pipe. "Ye know, she's got quite a fiery spirit. I've been tryin' to find a lad who could control 'er." the man sighed and looked deep into Erik's eyes. Erik could see pain in them. "My lass, she's got it in 'er 'ead to stay alone, ne'er marry. Lad, I just canno' 'ave that. I 'ave to marry 'er off." the man got up and went to a window. He stood there for a while before turning back to Erik. "'er birthday is coming soon. She'll be sixteen in a month.

"Erik, I want 'er to be 'appy, but she refuses to marry. I'll have to bid 'er off to the man who will offer the most fer 'er on 'er birthday." He turned back to the window. "If ye can make 'er 'appy, I'll give ye 'er 'and, but she 'as to be 'appy." The portly man in brown turned to Erik one last time. "Ye 'ave one month to win 'er over."

After fifteen minutes of silence, Brigit entered the brown room, with a gun. "Mr. O'hUigin, ye'll be leavin'…**now**." She ordered pointing the shotgun at Erik. He quickly grabbed his coat and left, it would be **much** harder to win her over than he had originally thought.

"Da, what the bloody 'ell were ye tinkin'?!" Brigit yelled at her father, he had never done something like this before, never.

"The lad only wants you to tell 'im some stories and dance fer 'im. I ain't marryin' ye off yet!" He said, suddenly becoming quiet when he saw his daughter's face blanch.

"Yer…yer…gonna…I 'ave at sit down.." She whispered as she collapsed into one of the chairs by the table. Her father was going to marry her off? She thought she had shaken that silly thought from his head. Who would he give her to? Dempsy, the pig headed oaf that had been asking for her hand for years? Cronan, the one who had stolen many girls' virginities? She shuddered, she didn't want any of them, no man could tame her, and they never would be able to!

"Mo croཽ, I 'ave to, t'is fer yer own good. When I pass on, who'll protect ye? 'Eh?" Her father asked cradling her in his arms. She was his world and he hated to hurt her.

"I'd take care 'o meself, Da, I'm a strong lass, I could survive, Da." She begged, looking at her father with tear filled eyes.

Her father shook his head, tears coming to his wizened, grey eyes. "Alas, my child, I fear fer ye, and only want ye pretected, which means ye must be wed…" The two said no more, only cried, letting their fears out.

**I'm so sorry!! This is a VERY short chapter, and it took me a LONG time to update, I just kinda hit a brick wall, and I think I've hit another. I'm very sorry, but your reviews always keep me motivated! Thanks for waiting, and once more I'm terribly sorry.**


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